


That River's Flowing

by BlackRose



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Buck is hurting badly, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Maybe don't read if detailed planning of one's own death triggers you, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, no one actually dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24196114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRose/pseuds/BlackRose
Summary: Inspired by a Tumblr prompt. To wit: Buck, isolated in the aftermath of his clot, decides to die.
Relationships: Buck&Firefam, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 297





	That River's Flowing

The sun was shining brightly. Birds were chirping. The team gathered around the tv laughing at some stupid comedy video clip show. 

Buck heard and felt none of it. 

He'd not heard from Bobby since the day Eddie got his badge. Not a word about when he might be allowed back. Any overtures were met with a cautious, 'Hmmm, what did your doctor say? Let's give it a while to see how you take to the meds.' The stupid fucking blood thinners. If it weren't for the damn things currently eating away at his stomach lining, he could be back where he belonged. His leg had healed fine; he no longer had any pain. He could walk and run and get up and down the stairs to his loft in record time, a dozen times over without even breaking a sweat. He was _ready._

But it appeared the team wasn't. There was a new face around the station, a woman who was apparently called Lena. She was Eddie's new best friend. She'd even taken over Buck's locker, his name taped over to make room for hers. The curdling in his gut wasn't just a side effect of the blood thinners this time; it was jealously, sorrow and helpless rage. He'd tried to reach out, to remind them he was still alive, so fucking ready to jump back in the second they saw fit to clear him. Bobby never had time to return his calls. Hen was always busy with her family. Chim, taken up in his relationship with Maddie; too lovesick to even notice anything else. And Maddie----god, his sister was a saint; she'd been checking up on him every few days but as her and Chim's relationship solidified, the visits had become less and less frequent---and finally stopped altogether. He wasn't about to intrude on her happiness. Fuck knew she was due some peace, some joy, the love of a good man who treated her with the care and respect she deserved. After all the horrors she'd suffered at Doug's hands, it was the very _least_ she deserved. He was happy for her, really. For her sake, he kept his mouth shut about how dark and ugly and cold the world was beginning to seem; how day blended to night and sometimes he didn't even get off the couch. How he spent most of the day too nauseated to eat, only sipping a Gatorade or two or some flat soda because he needed the liquids. How it was increasingly becoming just too much trouble to stay alive.

He lay awhile in silence, experimentally just being aware of this body he was trapped inside. _In, out, in, out,_ went the lungs. _Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick_ went the heart. ' _You're exhausting! It's always about you! Bobby should've gotten a Dalmatian instead! It was me keeping you from coming back; you're not ready and you'll never be!'_ went the mind. 

Okay. All right then. All at once, it was decided. With a sudden burst of energy he got up and hunted down pen and paper. He'd made his decision, but he couldn't do it immediately. There was planning to do first, and some research. He smiled ruefully as Google fired up, guiding him to the answers he needed. He loved doing this, looking random things up. He wondered if Christopher would miss having someone willing to sit with him and find serious answers to all his silliest questions. He loved that kid so much. The only thing that gave him pause was the mental image of that adorable little boy standing graveside, tearfully asking his Daddy _why_. Why didn't his Buck love him enough to stay? _'Because he's selfish and stupid,'_ Eddie would reply, _'He only ever thought of his own feelings, his own pain. We're better off without him, you and I.'_

That was the first thing to make his eyes even sting in weeks. He brushed them dry and kept typing, pausing every so often to take down notes. By the time the clock in the corner of his laptop screen read 1 AM, he had the information he needed, and the skeletons--- _haha!_ \---of a plan in place. He'd pay out the lease on his loft; no reason to make the landlord angry by suddenly being unavailable and stopping rent. So much kinder to just say he was moving away on a whim, and leave cash in an envelope. His things could be sold or donated; his note would make that clear. He'd leave paperwork with the station directing his final paycheck be given to Maddie; she'd put it to good use. His Jeep, he'd leave to Eddie for Chris when he was older, or maybe just to sell. God knew he had to be hurting for money, between Chris' tuition and the payments on that truck. He'd leave an envelope on the steering wheel that just said ' _I'm Sorry_ ' and contained the necessary documents. As far as notes, he wrote one to Eddie, a second one for Christopher, one for Chim and Maddie, and one to Bobby and Athena. After a moment's thought, he also wrote one to Lena. Just a short little ' _Thanks for taking care of my family, I'm sorry I never got to meet you. Eddie seems happy._ " In the end, that was all he ever really wanted. 

All that was left, was method and location. He knew right away he couldn't do it in the loft. By the time his body smelled enough to draw concerned neighbors, he'd have thoroughly ruined the carpets and walls. That would hurt the property value. Besides, no one ever wanted the 'haunted' property. He couldn't go the station, either. Those damned heroes would try---however grudgingly---to stop him. He'd wind up on a locked ward in paper scrubs, coloring away the days until his insurance ran out, he got streeted and tried again. _NO._ Train station, maybe, a simple little 'slip' in front of the train? No, too cruel to the passengers and driver. Buck couldn't be cruel like that. It had to be somewhere private, relatively anonymous. That ruled out crashing his Jeep; the 118 might be called out, and besides people survived crashes all the time. He needed a sure thing. That ruled out poisoning; most toxins were hard to get in lethal doses. He could make a cocktail---but his research indicated that the most effective ones required prescription meds he didn't have access to. Besides, a big guy like him with a relatively-fast metabolism, it might only make him wretchedly ill rather than kill him. A night in the ER vomiting up activated charcoal with a bored safety sitter by his bed didn't sound like a good plan. There were all the usual means---hanging, but from what? He was heavy; it had to be something that wouldn't snap under his weight. He still had his old SEAL Sig Sauer. But it wasn't suppressed; the noise might attract unwanted attention. A fall? That might work, but from where? 

Suddenly restless, he threw on his shoes and went for a walk. He just needed to see what he could see, that was all. Find out what was what, and where might be good in Los Angeles to jump from. 

He was halfway to the station when he found the perfect place. A bridge trestle over a rushing river. Peering over the side he estimated the water as roughly eight feet deep and fast-moving. There'd be almost no chance to survive that, huh? Almost without thinking about it he climbed over the low guardrail and perched on the ledge, legs dangling freely. It had rained, recently. Closing his eyes Buck imagined that icy water dragging him along. It would be like the tsunami all over again, but without that precious little beacon of purpose this time: no Christopher to struggle home for. No reason, this time, to fight the tides. Hell, he wouldn't even have to _jump_ , not really. If he were just to go limp---to finally give up, and stop fighting this fucked-up, losing battle, he could slide right off this ledge and get dragged to hell or whatever....

His hood raised against the late wind---and as protection from the car headlights that occasionally swept over him---he didn't immediately notice the flashing red-and-blue lights nor the soft crunch of tires and footsteps approaching across the gravel. 

"Sir? Are you alright?"

That voice.....

It had been taunting him in his head for weeks. It was Bobby, of course it fucking was. Damn his luck; he found the perfect bridge but within the 118's jurisdiction. The captain's eyes widened in shock and dawning horror as he recognized Buck. Buck wanted to laugh, but his throat was too raw. He barely twitched a smile at Athena over Bobby's shoulder---she probably got the report and called the team in. More yellow-and-black shapes materialized from the dark. Chim, Hen, Lena. _Eddie._ Buck felt a cold satisfaction as their faces went bloodless, realizing he was the potential jumper. What were they feeling right now? Did they even still get to feel? That wasn't fair, now was it? 

"Son, listen---"

"Don't call me that. I'm not your kid, remember? Or did you forget you said that? I sure as fuck don't have the luxury of _ever_ fucking forgetting. Or that I'm selfish, and make everything about me. That I'm not good enough. I'm exhausting. I'm replaceable. You didn't want me to begin with. Why are you even here?"

There should be more heat and anger behind those words, he knew, but he was just so _tired._ It was as if all emotions except the desire to not be, had frozen over inside of him. He tipped his head back to the cool stone again, and suddenly in a rustle of fabric, someone was perched beside him. 

"Buckaroo."

Athena. He blinked at her, confused. Why was she cupping his cheek like that? More importantly still, why was she _crying_?!? 

"You're as close to a son as we have without being blood. You're not selfish. You are the single-most selfless, big-hearted man I know. I'm proud of the man you became, baby boy, and it is a goddamn _crime_ that we never told you that until now."

She sounded genuinely distraught----fearless Athena, who never called for backup when chasing a suspect? Who ran into danger as readily as any firefighter? Was she....actually scared to think she might lose him?

As her thumb skimmed gently over his birthmark, a tiny crack formed in the wall of ice around his heart. He bent towards her, still so hungry for affection, and as her arms wrapped around him the levee broke. His apology caught in his chest and the next instant he was sobbing into her shoulder as she held him. She rocked him, kissing the top of his head and murmuring to him he was such a good boy, they failed at showing it but he was very loved and so good. Once all his thawed hurt and sorrow started spilling out it was like a flood, but her arms were there to anchor him and keep him from drifting away. He wasn't quite sure when a second embrace enveloped both of them, but he heard Bobby whispering his apologies as well. Was this what it was like, he wondered, to have a _real_ family? People you could lean on when you were weak without being shamed for it? People that would hold you together when you fell apart and then help you put the pieces back in place? 

"I'm so sorry, kid. I...I admit it, I was scared to bring you back. All I could picture was a bad call, the wrong piece of broken glass or sharp metal, and suddenly we're trying to keep you from bleeding out. Losing you---like I almost did tonight, because I was too proud to admit that fear. I'm so sorry, Buck."

Buck's heart throbbed and all he could do was lean into Bobby, letting his Captain pull him close. Was this what a Dad felt like? 

"I-I'm ready to be back. I've _been_ ready. I know, I need to see Frank and-and maybe a separate therapist that's not tied to work but I--"

"I'll talk to the Chief in the morning. For now, let's get off this ledge; there's a lot more people that want to hug you and there's no room out here."

Strong hands helped him back over the barrier, and almost immediately Hen was holding him tightly. Her eyes were wet as she drew back to study him.

"You're skin and bones, Buckaroo," she appraised him sadly, grasping his wrist and circling it between her thumb and forefinger with unnerving ease. Had he really lost that much muscle mass? How was it he hadn't noticed?

"I, uh...the meds? They make me sick sometimes, so..."

He felt suddenly ashamed; this sickly, haunted-eyed mess of a human, _this_ was trying to come join them again?!? 

As if reading his mind she pulled him back in, rubbing his back. 

"Maybe see if your doctor will switch you? The newer kinds tend to be better-tolerated for most people. Or....hell, it's been the six weeks, right? Isn't that about when they said you could come off them?"

Huh....had it really been that long? Time can fly when life sucks.

He gave her a genuine smile as they stepped apart. 

"Thanks Hen, I'll look into that."

Chimney was next, guilt written all over his face. 

"You'd figure a frickin' paramedic would know better. I'm so sorry, man."

Buck patted his back.

" _I_ forgive you, Chim. Maddie, on the other hand..."

His flinch at the idea of explaining his role in Buck's decline to Buck's very-protective older sister, made Buck laugh for what felt like the first time in months. It was almost.... _easy_. It almost felt like he'd never left them. 

But then there was Lena. Instinctively he went rigid, watching her warily. Her eyes were sad, though, and she seemed oddly shy as she offered her hand. 

"Hi, Lena Bosko. You must be this Buck I'm always hearing about."

He shook with her, tentatively. 

"Yeah, yeah that's me. I heard...good things about you--"

"For what it's worth? I was never here to replace you. Just think of it as keeping your seat in the rig warm. It'll be there for you when you're ready." 

Now it was his turn to blush, and to pull her in for a hug.

"Thanks for keeping Eddie in check for me."

"Not an easy thing to do. Just...get better, okay? He needs you so much more than his emotionally-constipated ass can admit."

Speaking of Eddie---he was standing off a bit, watching with an unreadable expression. As Lena stepped back, Buck's stomach churned softly---was he about to get yelled at or straight-up punched? 

Neither, it turned out; the moment he was within arms' reach Eddie's face crumbled, and he grabbed onto Buck like he was terrified to let go. It was entirely different from the way they'd hugged before; Eddie was usually one for a brief backslap and then release. This, though....he actually _squeezed_ Buck, and leaned into him the way Buck always tried to do. It...felt like being forgiven.

Even when they let go, Eddie's hand found Buck's shoulder, his thumb resting against his pulse. 

" _Evan_. You are not exhausting. I said that in anger, not realizing at the time how bad it would hurt you. You are the most selfless, caring person I know. Yeah, you can be impulsive sometimes, but it's because you're so eager to be helping people. I let my pride and my own hurt cause me to snap at you, and tonight it...it nearly cost me one of the people I love most. There's....not even words for how sorry I am. "

Buck had to swipe his eyes dry. 

"You mean it?"

"Every bit. If you'll let me, I want to prove it to you, and keep proving it, every day."

Something in Eddie's eyes said he was absolutely serious, and a strange warm feeling blossomed in Buck's chest as he opened his arms again. 

"I'm holding you to that."

Bobby squeezed his shoulder lightly. 

"C'mon, kiddo. Let's get you home."

_Home._

Home proved to be the station. This late, only Riley and Paulson were still up, but they offered their own apologies. It was honestly a little overwhelming, having been treated so coldly for so long. Buck was relieved to make amends though; he'd never been one to cling to grudges. Hen plied him with a protein drink--'Humor me, Buckaroo'--and sat with him while he drank it. Somehow, it didn't cause nearly as much pain as he had become used to. There were fresh towels in the bathroom and he emerged from the shower to find a clean set of sweats and a bed made up for him in the bunkroom. Eddie covered him up, and, probably assuming Buck was asleep, pressed the softest kiss to his forehead.

"Love you too, Eds."

He was a long way from whole, but he was on the way, and he finally knew he wasn't alone.


End file.
